


Alone on Christmas Eve

by stellarmeadow



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: Character Study, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone and lonely aren't the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone on Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babel/gifts).



Jai settled more firmly onto his stool at the bar, twirling his scotch around in his glass. It glowed in the low lights from the Christmas decorations nearby, a rich color that only the best scotch could manage. He took a longer drink than the sip it probably deserved, but he didn't care. The whole point of drinking expensive scotch was to show you didn't care how much it cost, right?

He took another long drink, holding up the empty glass to catch the bartender's eye. When she brought the bottle down and went to fill Jai's glass, he reached out and grasped the bottle instead, his hand covering hers.

"Sir, we're not supposed to--"

He gave her his best smile, one that had worked on every female--and more than one male--from Georgetown to Shanghai and everywhere in between, caressing her hand with his fingertips as he pretended he was going to let go. At her hesitation, he pulled a fifty out of his pocket and placed it on the area reserved for tips, still smiling, his eyes never leaving hers.

She gave him a smile in return, looking him up and down before letting him take the bottle, her hand sweeping up the money in a practiced, fluid move as she turned to wait on other customers at the other end of the bar. He'd chosen his spot well, the far end of the bar, fewer patrons around, easier to watch the room, no mirrors directly in front of him to provide his own reflection, but easy viewing of the other mirrors behind the bar to help him watch his own back.

He was good at that, no one could deny it. He allowed himself a small smile as he filled his glass and took another drink. He had his own back when no one else, not even his father, did. Hadn't he just proved that to everyone? Countless men and women at the CIA had tried for decades to bring Henry Wilcox down, but who'd finally managed it? The one person Henry himself would have happily told anyone didn't have the balls.

Then again, Henry wouldn't be so quick to claim that now, wherever he was, hopefully rotting away somewhere with bad scotch and cheap cotton clothing. He's spent years doing everything he could to train Jai to be more like him; now he could reap the benefits of his success.

If nothing else, no one could say Jai Wilcox wasn't his father's son.

He swallowed more of the scotch, which seemed to be even smoother than before. Maybe it was the added sweetness of his victory that made it seem that much better. He'd not only bested his father, he'd bested Arthur, Joan, Auggie.... They'd all written him off. Thought him in over his head, and completely clueless about what he was doing.

Which was, of course, what he'd wanted. A viper couldn't reel in its prey, but a lamb...a lamb had no problem reeling people in. Poor little lost Jai, no clue what he was doing, in need of help, with expectations of gratitude at the end of the kindness they'd done him.

As if it was some ridiculous Montessori school, instead of the CIA.

He supposed he should feel bad about Auggie, at least. The man was blind, after all. Then again, the man also seemed to have Annie wrapped around his laser cane these days, so he wasn't really in need of a lot of sympathy.

One didn't need sympathy when one had Annie Walker.

He hadn't seen much of her lately--between trying to get Special Projects up and running, and the increasing demand for her in the field, they'd nodded in the hallways a few times, but that was it. She was one of the only things he actually missed about being part of the rank and file, a loyal operative taking orders from someone else. He felt like he'd lost any last chance he'd had with her when he left DPD.

Then again, she genuinely cared about the mission, about what the CIA was meant to do, and that was what Special Projects was all about. Sticking to the black and white ideals of their mission, cutting through red tape. He knew money would never work on her the way it had on Auggie's staff, but if he could explain to her what he was doing, maybe she'd join him. 

One Annie Walker would be worth four other operatives for what he envisioned for his department.

Of course, that would only work if Auggie hadn't managed to poison her mind. He could just hear Auggie now, complaining in that "I'm not complaining" tone he used that Jai had pilfered half his staff. As if Jai wouldn't have hired Auggie, too, if he'd thought Auggie would come. They'd almost been friends once, but Joan had managed to sever that, too.

Joan and Arthur, the prince and princess of the CIA. Their future so bright, their careers secured, with nothing standing in their way now. But then again, Jai's parents had once held that coveted status, and look where they were now.

Futures could change, stories were rewritten all the time, and nowhere was that more true than at Langley.

They all thought that all they needed was each other. Joan needed Arthur, Arthur needed Joan, Auggie needed...well, lots of people, and Annie needed...he wasn't sure what Annie needed, other than the absolute approval of everyone around her. Which was another reason he'd have to approach her carefully, strategically, and over time if he wanted her to join him at Special Projects. 

Not that he needed her. Need was a weakness, and he had proven that the fastest, safest way to get to the upper ranks at the CIA, short of sleeping your way there (and no, he wasn't looking at Joan at all), was to do it on your own without needing anyone and without owing any favors when you got there.

He didn't need Annie. But he wanted her. Because she was the best. And that was what he wanted his whole department to be.

He smelled the perfume before he saw the shadow on the bar and before he heard the stool next to him scrape back. "Is this seat taken?" a voice said.

Giving the woman a long look before he made the decision, he eventually shook his head. "No," he said, giving her a smile. "Be my guest."

"I'm Tiffany," she said, red lips parting into a wide smile perfectly framed by expertly blushed cheeks and perfectly highlighted blonde hair. "Nice to meet you."

"Jai," he said, not bothering to hide his amused smile as he took a smaller sip of his scotch this time.

"So what do you do, Jai?" she asked, taking a drink of her white wine she'd brought over with her.

He laughed, then schooled his features into mock seriousness and leaned in. "It's classified," he said. "I could tell you, but...."

"You'd have to kill me?" One not-quite-blonde eyebrow arched over eyes too blue to be real. "That would be a shame."

"It would at that," he agreed, giving her a not-at-all-subtle once over. "Certainly wouldn't be fair to deprive the world of one so lovely as you."

Her girlish laugh didn't grate as much as it would if he hadn't been drinking. She was far from perfect, but she was, without a doubt, the hottest woman in the bar, probably stuck here on business like everyone else in a hotel bar on Christmas Eve, and he'd discovered long ago that the one thing no one in a hotel bar on a holiday wanted was to be alone.

"Are you staying here?" Jai asked, taking another drink and motioning to the bartender to get the woman another wine.

"Just for the night--I have a flight out tomorrow to my brother's."

"So you won't be alone for the whole holiday, then?"

She smiled slowly. "I didn't realize I was alone now," she said, tapping her room key card on the bar.

He matched her smile perfectly as the bartender walked up. "Here," Jai said, pulling out his AmEx and handing it to the bartender. "Could you settle my tab, please?"

The bartender nodded and turned back towards the register, as Tiffany's smile grew wider, her fingertips caressing key card. "Leaving so soon?" she asked.

"Who said I was leaving?" Jay replied. "Didn't you say you were staying here?"

Her smile removed any possibility--had there really been any in the first place?--that he might be alone on Christmas Eve.

They always said it was lonely at the top, but he'd discovered recently that whoever "they" were, they apparently hadn't known that being on top didn't mean you had to be alone.

Just that the company had to constantly change if you wanted to stay there.

\---

END


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